My 3-year-old ball of mischief, Lucy had developed several games that I am expected to play with her.

The stairs game:

Whenever I step on the first step of our stairway, to either go up or down, she has to race as fast as she can go, pass me and get to the end first. Usually making her long chirping noises as she does so. To make things interesting I'll step on the first step and then turn around and go into another room. I usually find myself followed by a very aggravated kitty.

The lap game:

This is the cat who, as a kitten, could never be bothered to be petted or cuddled. She didn't want to be loved, she wanted to play. She never purred. Now she jumps into my lap when I'm in my favorite chair and expects me to have a blanket all laid out across my legs just waiting for her. If I am negligent in my duties she will remind me by jumping down with disgust and pawing at the blanket until I pick it up and put it out for her. Once the blanket is properly spread, she settles in the middle and I am required to put the rest of it over her so she can have a nap.

The monitor game:

She had won the contest between herself and Shinobu for the comfy spot on top of the monitor. She lays up there and expects me to run junk mail around the desk top for her to play with. If I don't, she will tap me on the forehead until I pay attention. I am also required to give skritches.

The other night I was reading the rec.pets.cats.anecdotes newsgroup and I heard a strange sound coming from little Lucy. I leaned toward her to make sure I was hearing her right. She was purring to herself and blinking her eyes at me.

I guess she loves me after all.

Copyright © Hazel Az
February 23, 2001